


Not Quite Snowing

by Yurivil



Category: Tales of Vesperia
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Childhood Friends, Fluff, Gen, M/M, lots of different themes, spoilers for entire game
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-26
Updated: 2020-06-17
Packaged: 2020-07-20 00:49:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 6,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19983298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yurivil/pseuds/Yurivil
Summary: Collection of Fluri-centric one shots and some short multipart ficlets.





	1. Modesty

**Author's Note:**

> I woke up at 4AM and apparently my brain thinks Fluri is more important than sleep so this happened.

It happens completely out of the blue. In the aftermath, Yuri is vaguely aware he’d been staring straight ahead at absolutely nothing, face frozen in stunned silence for several seconds. The other party members are all equally shocked as him. When his brain finally finishes processing what just occurred, he has to fight to keep his expression neutral. He prays that Mantiac’s insufferably hot weather has already made him flushed enough that no one can see the heat rising to his cheeks. 

_Damn you, Flynn._

To make matters worse, the offending knight is already long gone, having made a smooth exit. And leaving Yuri looking like a stupefied fool. Karol and Rita, done staring after Flynn, round their gazes back to him, mouths hanging open. Patty looks like she’s the one that was scandalized. Estelle’s hands are over her mouth and her face is pinker than her hair. Raven has an eyebrow raised. Judith just gives him that damn all knowing smile. They’re all waiting for an explanation from Yuri.

_You stupid blonde jackass I’m going to remember this._

In an attempt to salvage his tattered pride, the guildsman forces the air out of his lungs in an offended snort, hand going to rest on his hip to feign nonchalance. 

“And he has the nerve to lecture me about _modesty._ ”

He leaves it at that, and starts for the inn, intent on giving a certain knight an ass kicking he wouldn’t soon forget. The swordsman is just beginning to think he’s managed to preserve what’s left of his image, when he hears Patty.

“Yuri! You were _cheating on me?!_ ” 

“Seems more ta me like ya were the mistress all along, Patty darlin’.” Raven drawls.

“Wait. What?” Karol still hasn’t managed to wrap his head around what just happened.

“My, I thought they were rather obvious. Was it supposed to be a secret?” Judith teases.

“D-did Flynn just—?” Estelle starts.

Yuri doesn’t hear the rest as he kicks the inn door shut -no, he certainly didn’t slam it- behind him. He levels a glare at the source of his ire as he crosses the inn to confront him. Flynn is smiling at him softly, looking far more amused than he had the right to be.

“You _asshole_. What the hell was that?!” Yuri seethes. 

“A kiss. What did you think it was?” He still has that stupid perfect smile.

“That’s not what I meant and y—“ Yuri is abruptly cut off by Flynn’s lips on his. He finds himself stunned into silence once again as Flynn pulls back, hand still cupping Yuri’s cheek. 

“I didn’t know there was such a convenient way to get you to stop talking.”

Yuri’s mind comes up with a very long string of insults, but somehow the fingers stroking his jaw make it very hard to get them past his lips. He knows the desert heat can’t hide his blush, and so he settles for a mumbled, “…I hate you.” 

Flynn chuckles, “I love you, too.”


	2. Moral Conundrum

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ZAUDE SPOILERS. Prompt from Felinis on tumblr: "I would love it if someone did a fic where at Zaude right as Yuri is about to get stabbed a large shard of Apatheia hits him in the gut first and before he falls..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve a vague idea of a follow up piece or two but. Meh. For now it’s a one-shot. Sodia’s POV is surprisingly enjoyable to write, though I find myself abusing italics. MASSIVE ZAUDE SPOILERS.

Something in her is straining, struggling, held taught by a fine thread. It grows weaker every time she sees _that man_ and it’s only by her Captain’s orders that she manages to restrain herself. _He_ is a bad influence. _He_ causes nothing but trouble for her Captain. _He_ is a criminal, a murderer. And most certainly, _he_ is not worthy of her Captain’s affections. _Yuri Lowell_ doesn’t deserve Flynn.

He’s testing her. He always does. Civilians are supposed to stand down. Civilians are supposed to let the Knights take care of everything. But Yuri Lowell isn’t a civilian; he’s a criminal. Every time he speaks she feels her blood boil. How _dare_ he brush aside her Captains -No- the _Commandant’s_ orders so casually? The fact that Flynn not only goes along with him, but actually _defends_ this villain, makes everything burn even more.

She makes a decision. She’s had the idea in her head since long ago. But it’s not until Flynn takes a near-fatal blow for that _lowlife_ that she starts planning. Flynn is better off without him. The _world_ is better off without him. She’d just be doing Flynn and the world a favor. The knight bides her time, and everything is perfect when the Apatheia falls. The chaos separates Lowell from the rest, and she charges through the smoke, dagger at the ready as he turns to face her—

“—Flynn?” She hesitates for a moment at that, because despite everything, having someone’s last thought be that they were dying at the hand of Flynn Scifo makes her feel sick.

There’s a thud, the sound of sharp edge meeting flesh, and she finally looks up. Lowell lets out a pained gasp, and staggers backward. He’s clutching his side, impaled by a long shard of the Apatheia, when he glances up to meet her eyes. She’s frozen in place, dagger still held offensively, and she can tell from the way his eyes widen and then narrow that he’s well aware of what she intended to do. There’s anger, and distain in those eyes, but in the next staggered step backwards, it molds to something softer. Pity. Sympathy. _Understanding._

His next step back has him swaying off the edge of the shrine, and purely on instinct, she starts to reach out to catch him. Her hand grabs at empty air as he tilts almost in slow motion away from her. Had it not been for her proximity, she might have missed his final words.

_“Take care of Flynn.”_

“ ** _No!_** ” She screams as he plummets beyond her reach.


	3. Tails of St Vesperia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The unfinished and abruptly ending mermaid AU no one asked for that I wrote back in 2011

_Nets. They entangled his limbs, restricting his flailing attempts to free himself. Part of his panicked mind was vaguely aware of being tugged upwards. No. He couldn’t be seen. He had to get away, back to –Hell, anywhere but here. The man thrashed violently, only succeeding in entangling himself more. A sharp cold was suddenly present on his back._

_‘…Damn!’_

_They had managed to pull him to the surface. The warmth of the water was suddenly completely gone, the chilled air taking its place. In desperation, he used his freed hand to try shoving away from the hull of the boat. His arm was suddenly grabbed and jerked upwards, yanking him into the boat only to land hard on the deck._

_“–ty, get back!” A gruff voice yelled._

_Pushing himself off the deck, he managed to glimpse through the net. He caught sight of a small blonde girl with striking blue eyes and a… pirate hat? There was a piercing pain on the back of his head. And everything went black._

.

Flynn was surprised. Never in his years at the University of St. Vesperia had he received such an urgent request for his presence directly from the Headmaster. Well, he had. But only for last minute check ups on things such as arranging homecoming, speaking at ceremonies, and giving financial reports of clubs. Those were to be expected of any student council president. He walked briskly across the campus, freshly frosted grass crunching under his feet, eager to complete whatever task he presumed Headmaster Dionia would ask of him. 

Rounding a corner, the aquarium facility came into full view. He couldn’t figure out why the Headmaster would ask to see him _here_ of all places. The blond shivered, pulling his uniform jacket closer as he made his way across the parking lot. The facility’s size never failed to impress him. Next to law and medical degrees, St. Vesperia also specialized heavily in marine biology. This was said to be due to the former headmaster Cypher’s influence. Now retired, the man was still in love with the sea, as he often took his granddaughter with him on his weekly fishing excursions. Flynn smiled at the memory of the little girl. 

“Flyyyyn~!” A young girl’s voice rang out in the late autumn air.

Speak of the devil. She was running towards him from across the street, red beret on her head and binoculars slung over her shoulder. 

“Hello, Patty.” He smiled at her as she approached.

A lengthy conversation followed the rest of their trip across the parking lot. It revolved mostly around Patty making him ‘guess what,’ Flynn guessing, and Patty just returning a ‘guess again.’ Approaching the door, Patty had slipped on a small patch of ice, though luckily for her, Flynn had grabbed the back of her vest, setting her back on her feet. She stared back at the patch of ice as if it were from another dimension.

“…Patty?” He questioned.

“Don’t you know what this means? It’s ice fishing season!” She turned to look at him, grinning, her blue eyes sparkling with excitement. Right, fishing. He should have guessed. Wait a minute… That was it!

“Did you catch a fish last weekend?” 

“Kind of.” She looked to the side, as if unsure how to explain it. 

“Kind of?” He pulled open the glass door, stepping inside.

“You’ll just have to see. That’s why the headmaster called you.” 

Flynn faltered for a moment, before looking at her incredulously. “The Headmaster wants to see me so he can show me a fish?”

“It’s… Well…” Flynn raised an eyebrow. “Not comp—“

“Miss Fluer!”

Flynn’s back straightened automatically at the voice, letting the door close on Patty, who simply stuck her tongue out before running off. Flynn turned and all but saluted to the man. “Headmaster Dionia.”

“Schifo.” The taller man nodded to him. “I appreciate you coming on such short notice.”

“It’s not a problem, sir.” Was his reply, “But, if I may, why the aquarium facility?”

The Headmaster turned and began walking down the hall, Flynn following, before he spoke, “I would presume you know of the previous Headmaster Cypher’s… hobby. Regardless, he and his granddaughter came upon a rather interesting discovery on their last expedition. Cypher requested that it be kept here, and that the public not know of its existence just yet. That said, anything you are about to see or hear is _not_ to leave this building, understood?” He came to stop in front of a door labeled _intensive care_.

“Y-yes, sir.” He managed. Flynn’s mind was reeling. So he really was here to see a fish? And an extremely rare one, from the sounds of it. Despite feeling flattered to be one of the few people that had the chance this supposedly rare fish, the blond couldn’t help but wonder why in the _hell_ that _he_ was here. He was a criminal and justice major, not a marine biology specialist. 

After undoing what Flynn counted as three separate locks, the Headmaster opened the door and they stepped inside. There were no lights on in the room, save for those illuminating a massive tank on the far wall. The water glowed a surreal blue-green, but a flicker of purple instantly caught Flynn’s attention. Whatever it been, it darted behind the large coral-head that took up nearly a third of the tank. 

“Was that…?” Flynn trailed off, casting a glance at the other man as he came to stand next to him in front of the tank.

The Headmaster nodded, “It’s extremely cautious about anything new. Unfortunately, it also seems to have a very strong dislike for both myself and most of the caretakers here at the aquarium.”

As Alexei finished speaking, he raised a knuckle to the glass and rapped on it as though he were knocking on a door. 

The harsh sound made Flynn wince, and he actually felt a little sorry for the fish. “Erm… Headmaster, not to be rude, but don’t most fish-”

“I think you’ll find this fish to be more intelligent than most." 

There was a loud _thunk_ in front of Flynn that made him start, but by the time he turned to look, he only saw a lone chunk of coral sinking to the flat, sandy bottom of the tank.

"What in the world…?” Flynn stared. 

The taller man chuckled, “Regardless, I’d like you to spend some time here.”

“Here, sir?" 

"Simply put, in this room. You may use it as your own private study hall, if you like.”

While the idea of a study hall in which he could work uninterrupted was _very_ appealing to Flynn… 

“What exactly will I be doing while I’m here?”“I suppose you could say that you’ll be socializing. The reason is that this fish is extremely dangerous for the aquarium staff to even feed. Leblanc was almost drowned yesterday. I hope that, through showing it humans aren’t a threat, it will allow us closer, so we can study it in further detail. You may read, study, whatever you wish.”

A study hall all to himself it was, then.

“I understand. I’ll come everyday after classes.”

“Good. Any other questions?”

“…You had said Mr. Leblanc was almost drowned?”

“I was told that the fish stole something from him and that he dove in to get it back. Ridiculous as it sounds, Leblanc was never really… Suited to be swim-team captain.”

“Aha…”

.

It had been about two weeks since Flynn started going to his private study hall at the aquarium. He enjoyed finishing his school and student council work nearly two hours earlier. It gave him time to… Actually have spare time. As per instructions, Flynn wasn’t allowed to turn on any lights save a small desk lamp for when he was working. A few times, feeling as though he were being watched, Flynn would jerk his head around, only to catch the literal tail-end of the creature as it dove behind the coral. Rather than stress over not seeing the fish, Flynn preferred to spend an extra hour either reading a book or watching a movie. The blonde had discovered a small TV on the desk near the tank, and also an old DVD player. So, Flynn would watch all of his favorite classics he was lucky enough to have on disk.

Today was a marathon of John Wayne movies that Flynn never got tired of. Half-way through _True Grit_ , even Flynn couldn’t help but smile and roll his eyes at the corny movie lines. In doing so, he caught a shadow out of the corner of his eye. It was in the tank. And it was definitely _not_ a fish. Flynn blinked. 

There was a person. Watching John Wayne. From in the tank.

Why would someone- When did they- How had Flynn not noticed? 

Cobalt eyes flickered to the side, as if to make sure Flynn wasn’t looking. Which he _was_ , much to the tank-dweller’s surprise. Their eyes went wide and their mouth fell open, allowing bubbles of air to escape, before they jerked back, speeding away in a blur of… purple? 

Flynn stared to where it - _they-_ had disappeared behind the coral head. They would have to come up for air at some point. The sound of gunshots rang out from the TV. The blond didn’t move an inch, hardly daring to breathe. He kept his eyes on the coral head, not letting his attention falter for even a moment. He was vaguely aware of the clock in the room ticking. 

Minutes passed. Flynn had at some point started counting the seconds of the ticking clock, and had already counted to sixty some twenty times. He was just about to resume his movie marathon when, tentatively, half a body appeared from behind the coral, partially obscured by a sea fan. The face and upper body were most definitely human, but… The lower half was decidedly not. There were scales and a tail and… _A mermaid._

Those cobalt eyes bore into him, and Flynn could do nothing but gape in return. There was a mermaid -merMAN- directly in front of him and his mind was reeling. What kind of creature was this? It seemed intelligent enough to enjoy movies. It was obviously sentient. 


	4. About Words and Handedness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Childhood Fluri. In which the boys argue about words, are equally confused on how handedness works, and Yuri is a little shit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbeta'd-ness abound.

It had been nearly a year since he had found himself living in the Lower Quarter with his mother, and more than a year since his father had passed. His mother Noreen had found simple work, mostly sewing during the day, and, when she had time, teaching their new neighbors how to read and write. Flynn was utterly confounded by the fact that not only the children, but even most of the adults were unable to even spell their own name. Yuri had been loathe to attend Noreen’s lessons, only showing up at Jiri’s _very_ strong insistence.

Reading came to him quickly, and the two of them sometimes passed entire days simply wandering around the Public Quarter. Yuri would attempt to sound out the names of all manner of shops, inns, and eateries. Flynn tried his best to be encouraging, but he couldn’t hold back his laughter at “linger-ree” -Yuri’s attempt at pronouncing _lingerie_. The other boy had gotten angry, and they’d fought, Yuri then skipping Noreen’s next few lessons. The blonde eventually felt guilty enough to splurge the minuscule amount of gald he’d managed to save up on a small bag of sweets in the hope of winning back Yuri’s favor. Fortunately for him, Yuri had a sweet tooth.

He had been more stubborn about learning to write. It took another round of convincing (Flynn thinks it’s more like _threatening_ ) from Jiri to get him to even try. When he first started attempting to write, charcoal clutched in a death grip, movements unsure and unsteady, his handwriting (if you could call it that) was far from legible. Yuri would grow frustrated quickly, irritated by his inability to shape the characters the way he wanted. Flynn would do his best to assure him that it simply took time and practice, and would spend hours teaching as best he could.

Sometimes they took to using chalky rocks on the stone path that lead to the Public Quarter, or on the old brick of the inn. Other times it was charcoal on the peeling plaster of the old market building where Noreen would hold her lessons. There were even times they used nothing but sticks to trace characters in the dirt. Today, however, was one of the rare times Yuri had managed to borrow (Flynn isn’t sure if he actually asked permission) a slate from a neighbor. They’re at one of Yuri’s favorite spots, near the inn and shaded from the summer heat by a small tree that had miraculously survived the brutal last winter.

“Not gunna write anything today?” Yuri asks, glancing up from his work.

“I can’t, remember?” Flynn holds up his right arm, wrist bound straight with a brace.

He’d been warned about the group of older boys that sometimes sauntered down from the Public Quarter. But he hadn’t heeded that warning, and was currently paying the price. At least three of the other boys were no doubt in worse shape than Flynn, but the boy himself was most dissatisfied that he was unable to help his friend write in his current state.

Yuri snorts, “Yeah, ‘cause it’s not like you can use your _other hand_ or anything.”

The blonde rolls his eyes, “No, I can’t. Also, that’s not how you spell eight.”

“Huh?” Yuri frowns and inspects his writing, “Nuh-uh, I spelled it right.”

“No. It’s E-I-G-H-T. As in, ‘I have eight apples.’” He explains.

“Uhm. Isn’t it, ‘I ate apples’?”

“That’s the other kind of ate. We’re talking about the number.”

“It’s the same word!” The dark haired boy argues.

“No, they’re not!”

Yuri narrows his eyes at him, “Say you’ve eaten that many apples.”

“What?” He asks, slightly confused. Then, when he realizes, “I ate eight apples.”

“See? Totally the same.”

“They just _sound_ the same. They’re spelled differently.”

“Why are they spelled differently if they sound the same?”

“Because-” Flynn pauses with a frown.

Why _were_ they spelled differently? He thinks back to all of the lessons with his teachers. And yet, despite all of their teachings of _how_ things were spelled, there was never any explanation of _why_. But there must be some reason… Right? Maybe sometime in the past there was a miscommunication. Yes, that would make sense. Words were phrased poorly and someone misunderstood. Words work the way they do to prevent misunderstandings. And yet.

“Because that’s how words work?” It comes out sounding more like a question than an answer.

The dark-haired boy doesn’t look satisfied with that answer, but goes back to writing on the slate with a scowl, “Words are fucking stupid.”

The blonde feels his cheeks flush slightly at the profanity and frowns at the other boy, “You shouldn’t swear. It’s rude.”

Yuri looks up, gives him the biggest shit-eating grin he’s ever seen, and, appropriately, the next word out of his mouth is, “Shit.”

“ _Yuri!_ ” Flynn’s face burns, mortified.

“Ass,” He’s outright laughing now, slate and chalk and writing practice forgotten, “Bitc—“

“Would you shut up?!” Flynn clamps his left hand over the offending foul mouth. He can’t see the grin anymore, but the crinkle of laughter at the corner of the other’s eyes lets him know it’s most definitely still there.

And then he feels something wet on his palm. Flynn recoils as though he were bitten by a snake, “Did you just _lick my hand_?!”

“Uh-huh.”

“That’s gross, Yuri.” He grimaces.

“Told you so.”

“Told me what?”

“You can use your other hand.”

“I can’t write with it, though.”

“Why not?” Flynn sighs in frustration, “The same reason you can’t write with your other hand. That’s how hand-”

“I can write with my other hand, though?”

That catches him off-guard, “Huh?”

Yuri switches the chalk to his right hand, and scribbles with surprising speed, ‘ _I can right with my right hand._ ’

“See?”

“…That’s now how you spell write.”

“…Is this one of those ate eight things?”

“Yes."

“Ugh. Which one’s wrong?”

“Write like writing words is W-R-I-T-E.”

Yuri rubs at the chalk word until it’s smeared enough to write over once again, and as he starts to write in the correct word, he asks, “So are you going to write today or not? Old lady Jiri keeps nagging that I should write prettier like you.”

“It’s not like I don’t want to help.” He sighs.

The other pauses in his writing, “Have you ever actually _tried_ writing with your other hand?”

“I. Well. No.” He admits. Yuri wordlessly offers him the slate. Though he hesitates for a moment, he takes the slate, settling it against his knee, before taking the chalk in his left hand. It feels clumsy and awkward and even though he’s _sure_ this is how he holds a pencil in his right hand it just feels wrong in his left.

“…What should I write?”

“Uh… Are there any other words like ate eight?”

Flynn nods.

“Write those. And tell me what they are.” Yuri shifts behind Flynn to look over his shoulder, leaning against him to get a better angle.

“Well, uh,” He starts clumsily, wiping the slate clean, “their, there and they’re.”

“There’s _three_ of them?” Yuri doesn’t hide the disdain in his voice.

"Personally, I think the hardest ones are two, to, and too.” Flynn mutters, trying with difficulty to scratch out the characters with his left hand.

“What.” Yuri says flatly.

“Oh, and then there’s aer, air, and heir…” He continues.

“You’re making these up.”

“I’m not.”

“How the he—“

“ _Yuri._ ”

“—ck am I supposed to remember all of this?”

“Reading will help the most. It helps you figure out which word is correct in context.”

“Books are boring.”

“Then be illiterate the rest of your life.” Flynn huffs, exasperated.

“You’re illiterate.” He retorts.

“That’s not how that insult works.”

Yuri snorts, “Yeah, it is. I’ve seen chicken scratch neater than your writing.”

“I-it’s not that bad!”

“What letter is this even supposed to be?”

“An E.”

“It looks like a dying tadpole.”

“What does that even mean?”

“It means it looks like a dying tadpole.”

Flynn continues to stare at him confused. The dark-haired boy raises an eyebrow, “Have you never seen a tadpole?”

“No?”

“It looks like this.” Yuri snatches the chalk from him and scrawls his best impression of a tadpole from over the blonde’s shoulder.

“…Is that really what they look like?”

“Uh-huh.”

Flynn looks from his poor attempt at writing with his non-dominate hand to Yuri’s simple drawing.

“…It _does_ look like a tadpole.”

“Told you so.”

The evening bell cuts off any further conversation, and both boys disappointedly realize the sun is beginning to set. The blonde hands the slate back to Yuri with a sigh, resigning himself to heading home for the day. He turns to say goodbye, only to find Yuri standing startlingly close behind him.

“What are you doing?” Flynn questions.

“Going with you.” He says plainly.

“Why?”

“I gotta talk to Noreen about something.”

Something in the back of Flynn’s mind screams this can only end badly. However, his rational mind tells him that it’s probably relative to the Lower Quarter and its residents. Yes, Hanks probably had a request to make of Noreen that he didn’t want to make public. Flynn is still trying to recall Jiri’s birthday when the pair arrives at his house. Yuri raps his knuckles on the door loudly in a rare display of courtesy, and the door opens only a few moments later.

“Flynn,” His mother smiles warmly at him, “Welcome home.”

“I’m back,” Flynn beams, “Oh, Yuri had something to tell you.”

“Is that so?” She turns her gaze to Yuri.

“Heya, Noreen.” He waves at her in greeting. The boy’s lack of respect for his elders never fails to make Flynn twitch.

“And so what do you need to tell me?” She leans down when she speaks to him, in a way Flynn just _knows_ irks Yuri because someone is literally leaning _down_ to talk to him. But strangely, Yuri doesn’t get angry, instead, he smiles sweetly.

“Well,” Yuri has a strange look in his eyes, “Flynn told me to shut up today.”

Flynn tenses even before his mother’s hand clamps down on his shoulder.

“Is that so?” She smiles even sweeter back at Yuri.

“Uh-huh. I thought you’d wanna know.” He looks far too smug.

“Well, thank you for telling me that, Yuri. Take care getting home, and have a good night, now.” Her voice doesn’t waver in the slightest.

“M’kay, see ya, Flynn, Noreen!” He doesn’t look back as he sprints off, laughing as he goes. When Noreen closes the door, Flynn knows he’ll be eating soap for dinner. 

For the rest of his life, he knows to expect the worst when Yuri gets that look in his eyes. 


	5. Basil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One-shot follow up (fan work of a fan work) to Suspicious_Popsicles' Once Upon a City Block, so makes sense if you read that first. The shortest and only finished of several drabbles I've written from OUaCB. Modern fantasy AU.

“I say, there’s a ‘Yuri Lowell’ asking for you on the phone,” Adecor says, looking down his nose at Flynn. Not that the man can help it, being an entire head taller than him.

“I don’t suppose he bothered to tell you why he was calling?” The blonde already knows the answer, but he asks anyway.

“No, he did not.” A thought seems to occur to Adecor, “Would this happen to be the one from the unicorn case?”

Flynn heaves a sigh, “Yes, it is. I’ll take the call. Could I ask you to go with Boccos in my place on the newest case, please?”

“But of course, I say!” Adecor makes no effort to hide his delight as he exits. Those trapped at the office were the ones answering calls and filling out reports. And -no thanks to Yuri’s untimely call just as he’d be about to leave for a case- Flynn was now going to be stuck at a desk for the rest of the day.

He doesn’t any waste time when he picks up the phone, “Now what?”

There’s an amused snort on the other end of the line, ‘I missed you, too.’

“You only call my work number when there’s something going on.”

‘There is. You’ve been to the Comet a few times, right?’

“I have.” So far this didn’t sound like any kind of emergency.

‘Have you met Karol? He’s the part-time kid.’

“I know who you’re talking about, yes.”

‘His family runs a place over in the west district. They sell plants and shit. Last week they had this super sale special on herbs-‘

“Yuri, is this going somewhere or are you just mad at me for not answering personal calls during work hours?” Flynn cuts him off.

‘Yes it’s going somewhere, and _I’m getting there, okay?_ Anyway, so they have this sale, and I’d really like to go because they have Fino Verde basil, which is amazing and delicious—But that’s an entire story in of itself. Main points here: basil, sale, I can’t go, right?’

“Right.” He makes his irritation clear by the way he grinds out the word.

‘So I asked Karol if he could save me one, and he said he would. And he did, and I picked it up and _damn_ does their basil smell good. Oh, I’m making pasta tonight, by the way. There’ll be plenty leftover if you want to stop by after work.’

“ _Yuri._ ” Flynn’s tone is warning.

‘There is now a basil plant in my apartment and I don’t know what else to do with it besides use it for making dinner.’

“Don’t call me during work for something like inviting me over for-“

‘Let me clarify that: there is now a basil dryad walking around in my apartment.’

He feels himself choke slightly.

“…A dryad.”

‘According to google, yeah. Is this thing going to kill me?’

“It’s just a basil dryad, right?”

‘Fino Verde basil dryad, but yeah.’

“How big is it?”

‘Tiny. Like not even foot tall? It’s, uh, one of the mini-plants. A dwarf type?’

“Then there’s no danger. The only times people have been killed by a dryad are all from cases where the dryads were at least human sized.”

‘Good to know.’

“Was that all you wanted?”

‘I mean, I just told you someone sold me a basil plant that was actually a dryad and then you told me that dryads have killed people. I don’t think Karol’s folks are the bad kind, but somehow dryad dealing seems kinda… Illegal?’

“That’s not entirely wrong. Would you happen to know the name of their establishment?”

‘Not off the top of my head, no. Here’s an idea, I’ll tell Karol you heard my rave reviews about their basil and want to buy a plant.’

“Does he know about the unicorn?”

‘Spike? No. Or at least, I don’t think so. Hell, maybe he does. Does it matter?’

“Very much so. I’ll be over after work to take a look at the dryad. Try not to get killed before then.”

‘Is it going to freak out if I clip off some leaves?’

“Possibly.”

‘Okay, no, you’re being vague on purpose so I won’t do it, so I’m doing it.’

He tries to warn him, “Yuri, please wait until I get there—“

There’s the sound of a scissors closing, a quiet strangled noise, and then—

‘Argh!’

Flynn feels his heart skip a beat.

“Yuri?! Are you okay?!”

There’s muffled laughter, ‘I’m fine, I was just messing with you.’

“…You’re horrible, Yuri.”

‘And yet you love me anyway. See you in a few hours. Bring your own booze.’

Before he can respond, the call ends.

“Damn you.” Flynn mutters. setting the phone down and beginning to sift through files, looking for anything else on dryads.

The first file he pulls yields a connection to the Hunting Blades. Specifically, the Hunting Blades going after people and their stores that happened to deal the occasional dryad or even a mandrake. A dealing in which Yuri is now directly involved.

Flynn massages his temples to stave off an oncoming migraine, “…It’s going to be a long day.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mostly dialogue, but I really love the dynamic between the two of them in this AU. Yuri is 300% diving headfirst in the world of magic things he doesn't understand and Flynn has every right to be concerned. Alternately, Flynn screaming, "YURI NO" and Yuri yelling "YOLO" back while jumping on a wild pegasus or some other very dangerous creature.


	6. Riptide

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guess just who just got done re-reading SP's Undertow for the 23rd time?? Anyway, here's an angsty Undertow one-shot follow up. Shoutout to Lkc for being my Fluri angst buddy and also being obsessed with Undertow

“I must admit,” Starting at his nape, Judith runs her hand down his bare back, nimble fingers tracing his spine to just below the waist of his shorts, “This is a first for me.”

Yuri gives a hollow laugh, “What? Seeing me half-naked or feeling me up?”

“Well, both of those, too. But,” She smiles, though it doesn’t reach her eyes, “I’ve never seen a half-breed influenced so heavily by a single parent’s blood.”

“So,” He swallows the lump in his throat back down, “I’m going to turn into…”

“If this,” She pointedly runs a nail against the grain of the growths that have started to sprout up the base of his neck, “Continues, then yes.”

He doesn’t give any further conversation than that, and is eternally grateful he’s facing away from her. Of course everything is going to go to hell. Just when he thought maybe he’d be able to live a semi-normal fucking life. He’s living with Flynn, they finally adopted Repede, Estelle comes to visit on a pleasantly regular basis, he has _friends_ for the first time in his life— And now all of that is going away because he’s going to turn into goddamn man-eating monster.

Judith wraps her arms around him from behind in a gesture of comfort, “Does he know yet?”

“No.” Yuri’s response is rigid and automatic.

“Are you going to tell him?” That makes him flinch.

He tries to come up with an excuse but all he can manage is, “I can’t.”

“Hm,” Judith rests her forehead on his shoulder, “You know how to call me if you need me. Just… Be careful. You’ll probably going to start acting more like—“

“—A man-eater, I know,” it comes out snappier than he means it.

Her hold tightens briefly, “I’ll… look into it. See if there’s any precedent to this.”

Yuri lets out a bark of bitter laughter, “Appreciate the thought, Judy, but there aren’t a whole lot of ‘precedents’ like me that make it past their first year of life. Cannibalistic parents not withstanding.”

“I know,” Her hands slip off his shoulders and her footsteps echo as she steps back, “But it’s worth a try, at least.”

He glances at her over his shoulder as she leaves, “…Thanks, Judy.”

Judith’s physical form has vanished from sight, but he still hears her voice echo in his head, “Thank me when I’ve found something.”

“Here’s hoping,” Yuri mutters, pulling a shirt on over his head. The arms are tangled and he’s halfway through wrestling into it when his phone starts vibrating and the entire cave is flooded with the blaring guitar and drums of Wipeout. He swears venomously at his straight jacket of a shirt as he scrambles across his bed to the phone, answering with one arm still trapped awkwardly half in a sleeve, “—Hey, what’s up?”

“ _Hey!_ ” It’s Flynn, of course, “ _I got off work early._ ”

Yuri lets himself smile far easier then if Flynn where there in person to see him, “And?”

He can almost hear Flynn roll his eyes, “And _I was hoping a certain boyfriend of mine would be interested in having dinner and a movie with me tonight._ ”

"Hm, sorry, you’ll have to ask your other boyfriend.” Yuri switches to holding his phone between his left ear and his shoulder to use his free hand to try untangling the sleeve in question.

Flynn laughs, “ _You ass. I’m heading home now. Be ready in an hour?_ ”

“Yeah,” he grunts, finally tugging his shirt on all the way, “But let Repede out for me, would you?”

“ _You’re not home?_ ” The concern in his voice clear even through poor reception.

“Was trying to catch a nap at my place.” He says. Not a lie. He was trying to nap while waiting for Judy.

“ _If you’re tired then we can—_ “

“It’s fine,” Yuri says quickly, “Maybe better, actually. I still need to reset my sleep schedule after night watch over the holiday.”

“ _Are you sure?_ ”

He foregoes subtleness and turns the sarcasm to full blast, “No, I hate your fucking guts and never want to see you again, jackass.”

Flynn makes a sound that’s something between a laugh and a sigh, “ _Alright, fine, I’ll take Repede for a walk. See you soon._ ”

“Yeah, see you.” He lowers the phone, glancing to the screen to find the end call button.

Just before he can press it he hears Flynn once more, “ _Love you._ ”

Yuri feels his heart skip a beat, and he gapes for a moment, caught off guard. Then Flynn proceeds to hang up before he can say anything back. Yuri closes his eyes and takes several long, deep breaths, forces back the possessiveness that momentarily overwhelms over him.

Calm down.

_I love you more than anything._

Everything is fine.

_I want you._

Nothing bad is going to happen.

_All of you._

He has this under control.

_Every part._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear I do things besides fan works of fan works. Sometimes.


	7. Bargain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Post-game fluff with a slightly sexy times (rated T). It was going to be smut but I realized I've never written smut and so sorry in advance for the abrupt ending. Originally started writing this one for the 'Miss You Monday' prompt from Fluri week 2019.

Yuri stirs to consciousness when he feels his pillow shift out from beneath him; He lets out a noise of protest that gets his personal heater to still for a moment.

“Sorry, did I wake you?” Flynn mutters in apology.

Yuri grunts in reply, and wraps his arms around Flynn’s middle.

“Yuri,” He starts, though his voice lacks any kind of severity, “I need to get up now.”

“No,” Yuri grumbles, tightening his grip.

“Yuri,” Flynn’s tone is warning this time, “You know—“

“I missed you.” Yuri mumbles against Flynn’s stomach.

Flynn lets out a sigh that Yuri recognizes as equal parts exasperation and surrender, and tugs the blankets back over the both of them. He drifts back to sleep with the rise and fall of Flynn’s steady breathing.

Something glass or porcelain being placed on the bedside table wakes him next, and the rustling of papers pull him further from sleep. Blindly, he gropes at the bed sheets, searching for purchase on anything that might be Flynn. He comes up empty handed, but just as he resigns himself to burrowing beneath the blankets, a hand closes over his. The mattress dips beneath Flynn’s weight, and then Yuri is being pulled and coaxed out from his cocoon to settle against him.

The position he ends up in would be considered awkward by most, spine arched backward to mold himself against Flynn’s reclined sitting position. However, growing up where you didn’t always have a safe place to drift off in was something that let Yuri fall asleep nearly anywhere. Especially like this, when he gets to bury his face in the crook of Flynn’s neck, their legs tangled together, Flynn running a hand through his hair—

Scratching on paper draws him out of bliss. Begrudgingly, he cracks an eye open to glance at Flynn’s other side. He has a clipboard propped against his other knee, the one Yuri isn’t half sprawled on, and there’s a quill in his hand -which is just as busy writing as his left hand is softly massaging Yuri’s scalp.

“What are you doing?” Yuri’s voice is hoarse with sleep, and lacks his intended annoyed tone.

“Hm?” Both hands pause their work for a moment, “Oh, this? Paperwork. There’s a few reports I need to finish before noon.”

Yuri gives an offended snort as he turns his head to rest his chin on Flynn’s shoulder, “The only thing you should be doing in this bed is me.”

“Shockingly, I also use this bed to sleep in.”

“I beg to differ after last night.”

“Mm,” Flynn draws his hair to the side to drop a kiss on his nape, “You were gone too long.”

“Yeah, well, blame the asshole guild that bailed on a job we were supposed to cooperate on. Was supposed to be a week, ended up taking us three damn months.”

“Sounds like you had a hard time. What happened to the other guild?” He asks absently, resuming his work.

“Blacklisted their sorry asses. They’ve probably already broken up.”

“I didn’t know Brave Vesperia was part of the Union.”

“No, we’re still unaffiliated. Our best customer Kauffman, on the other hand, has a bit of sway.”

“It almost sounds like you have personal influence on Union matters.”

“I’ve got nothing on the Commandant who sent a personal letter to Heliord’s magistrate that _miraculously_ immediately convinced him to allow Union outposts in the city.” Yuri grins into his shoulder.

Flynn stills, “….That’s supposed to be top secret. How did you find out about that?”

“I’ve got an in with Ebony Epistle.”

“The _espionage_ guild?”

“They prefer ‘intelligence network.’”

“That doesn’t change fact that they’re blacklisted by the Union and the Empire.”

“Only on paper. They’re way too valuable to the Union for them to actually take action against them.”

“How do you have an in with them?”

“Not telling.”

“Yuri.”

“Ditch the paperwork and I’ll think about it.”

“—Really, Yuri,” Flynn says flatly.

“Really, Flynn.”

“You’re insufferable.”

“So are you ditching the paperwork or—” He doesn’t finish getting the question out before Flynn has expediently tossed his clipboard to the floor and flipped them to pin Yuri to the mattress.

“Oh, good,” Yuri hums as Flynn kisses up his neck, “I was starting to think you were having a long distance affair.”

He pauses for a moment, “I _do_ still want to know about that ‘in’ of yours after this.”

“That won’t come - _hn!_ \- cheap,” he gasps when Flynn nips at his ear.

“Can’t I get a discount?” He moves to the corner of Yuri’s mouth now, fingers threading through his hair at the scalp, not pulling yet, but threatening.

Flynn kisses him fiercely, and it takes several attempts before Yuri finds a chance to turn his head away, gasping, “G-guild policy. No discounts for personal biases.”

“That’s a shame,” Flynn mutters as he works his way back down Yuri’s neck, “I don’t suppose you’d be willing to haggle?”

Yuri grins as Flynn makes his way to his chest, “I might be—“ Flynn twists both of his nipples _hard_ and he throws his head back with a moan before he finds his voice agin, “M-might be convinced.”

Needless to say, Flynn drives a hard bargain.


End file.
